


Harbor

by Tinwoman



Series: We've Lived Too Long, Too Close [2]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Angst, Character studies, F/F, F/M, Fantasy Hang Gliding, Female Ejaculation, Oral Sex, Playing it fast and loose with canon and timelines in places, Polyamory, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-03-23 02:45:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13778019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinwoman/pseuds/Tinwoman
Summary: In preparation for Barry and Lup’s transformation to lichdom, Lucretia plans a day for each of them, and keeps one day all for herself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This baby is a kind-of-not-really sequel to [from the wreckage build a home](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12669651/chapters/28880979), but it should make sense on its own!

When Lup and Barry tell Lucretia about what they need for the transformation, about the Good Days, they don’t sugarcoat it; Lucretia knows already what they’re planning and why, has known since they first came up with this bonkers, _impossible_ , balls-to-the-wall idea. She’d swallowed hard when Barry had explained the finer points of the ritual, peppering his recitation with reassurances that it was as safe as he can make it (which, knowing him like they both do, is pretty damn safe), one hand on her shoulder and the other resting on her knee. Lup had sat to the side and let him take over, had seen her spine straighten and her hands clench into fists at her sides. Lup knew then it’d be a no-go for Keesh.

Before she saw that, Lup had thought that Lucretia might want...they’d even tried asking, after, if she would think about it...but she wouldn’t. Couldn’t, maybe. Too much death for her, too many blurred uncertainties, a hard ‘no’ in the set of her mouth even as her words were gentle when she turned them down. Barry had been unsurprised, and despite the initial sting of disappointment Lup thought later it was probably for the best. Just her and Barry on this ride; feels right, now.

So yeah, Lup knows Lucretia’s more than a little freaked out by the whole thing, probably closer to terrified, but Lucretia nods seriously and without hesitation all the same when they ask her for the favor.

“One good day, huh?” Lucretia says, sipping her glass of wine thoughtfully.

The three of them are sitting out on the deck of the ship, perched on a Magnus-made picnic table and watching the sun dip down below the mountains in the distance. It’s getting a little chilly for Lup’s taste, and she tugs Barry’s sweater a little tighter around her shoulders. It smells good — woods-y, smokey hint of flint and tinder from his workshop, the faintest tinge of sulfur — and she smiles a little at him over the top of Lucretia’s head.

“Yeah,” Barry says, returning her smile with a little twitch of his lips. “It doesn’t have to be anything too crazy, just something to —”

“Anchor you,” Lucretia finishes, still staring out at the horizon with a slight frown on her face, the sunlight pouring over her face like liquid bronze. Lup’s pretty sure it’s her Critical Thinking face, not her Ready To Bolt face, but she places her hand gently over Lucretia’s just in case.

“Pretty much,” Lup says, turning toward the warm breeze coming in from the south, giving Lucretia some space. “Think you’re up for it?”

“Hmm? Oh, of course,” Lucretia says, snapping out of her mini-reverie and squeezing Lup’s hand reassuringly. “That’s not even a question. I’m just...thinking…” She trails off again, and Lup swears she can see the wheels in her head turning, no doubt already compiling her vast array of mental notes into an itemized spreadsheet for maximized enjoyment.

“Doesn’t have to be right this second,” Lup says quietly, and Barry hums in agreement. “We’ve got a few weeks still, but not much longer than that.”

The order’s not unimportant here, though she’s got exactly zero intention of saying that out loud to Lucretia. It needs to be Lucretia first, for both of them; their beloved girl, full of contradictions and complications, steel backbone and indomitable heart, cracking open at the seams with so much love and tenderness trapped inside the tangle of her brilliant mind. Then each other, her and Barry; her miracle, the biggest and best surprise of her long, long life, who held her in his perfect arms as she raged and wept and was still so gloriously _unafraid_. The bravest person, the _best_ person, she’s ever known, a rock in the hurricane of their existence. How could she have done anything other than fall in love so hard and fast it took her breath away?

And then, of course. Taako. Her beginning and her end. The fixed point her world revolves around, the other half of her soul. She could withstand anything, any tragedy, apocalypse, any loss or death, as long as she has him. Taako needs to be last, keeping her on this plane with the sheer force of his fierce devotion and unstoppable will.

“A few weeks,” Lucretia murmurs, her wine glass drooping forgotten halfway to her mouth. “Okay. Okay, I can work with that. Is there...do you want to know, beforehand?”

“Nah,” Barry says, glancing at Lup for confirmation.

“Better not to,” Lup agrees, scooting a little closer to Lucretia and relieving her of her clearly unwanted wine glass. “Keeps the mystery alive.”

“Mystery’s not really my forte,” Lucretia says dryly, raising a significant eyebrow at Lup’s theft of her drink, but the corners of her mouth turn up in a fond smile that still makes Lup’s heart flutter in her chest.

“I have every confidence in your abilities,” Barry says with a sexy, promising grin. Lup laughs and winks appreciatively at him, and Lucretia elbows him gently in the ribs with a roll of her eyes. They’re quiet then for a long moment, the light draining from the sky as the wind rushes through the trees below.

Lup wonders absently if any of this will feel different, after; the air, the sun, the warmth of her lovers next to her. She’ll won’t be dead, but she won’t, strictly, be _alive_ anymore, either. Her and Barry both. They’ll be...something else. Unnamed, unknown, a tether between her friends and the fight they were all drafted into decades ago, a lifetime for Lucretia and Barry. Weapons, living weapons, against the actual metaphysical manifestation of _not enough, never enough._

_Then again, who’s to say any of us count as ‘alive’ anymore? We’re already done fucked up the One Life, Then Afterlife rule so badly it’s basically nonexistent for us — might as well go down swinging._

“One day for each of you,” Lucretia says, her voice soft in the stillness of the fading sunset. “I can do that. I can definitely do that.”

————————————————

Lup’s pretty sure, a few days later when Lucretia makes plans to take her up to the rocky cliffs that bracket the Starblaster, that they’re kicking off her Day. Lucretia didn’t mention anything about it specifically, just said she had something to show her and they should get a start in the morning. Lup had put just enough of a pouty show to get Lucretia to reel her in for a bribery kiss, luxuriating in the press of her lips.

“If you insist,” Lup murmurs as Lucretia runs a hand through her hair.

“I do,” Lucretia says firmly before pulling away with a small smile.

Lup doesn’t actually mind being up early; once they’re outside the weather is sunny and mild, and after decades of planet-hopping she’s chill enough to enjoy it for the treat is it. Plus Barry’s swamped today, Magnus practically hauling him over his shoulder to make him run the training drills he’d been skipping, so the timing is perfect. _Another point in the Lucretia’s Plan Falling Into Place column — Lucretia’s never been one to leave anything to chance._

It takes over an hour to get to the cliffside Lucretia deems acceptable, and it’s pretty impressive even after everything they’ve all seen. Sheer drop all the way down, the ground disappearing into a rolling field below, sunlight washing the area in clean, bright light. Lup ties her hair into a pile at the top of her head while Lucretia takes out a truly baffling assortment of items — flexible wooden polls of various sizes, bolts of fabric, several heavy-looking tools — out of a backpack that’s way too small to hold...any of that.

“This isn’t one of those 3D puzzles with no instructions, is it? Cause you know I ha—” Lup says, looking dubiously at the debris scattered around Lucretia’s feet.

“Shhh, no. You’ll like it, trust me. Just gotta find the — ah, here it is,” Lucretia says, not looking up, grabbing a small, sky-blue slip of fabric and holding it front of her like a prize. “Okay! Close your eyes.”

Lup raises an eyebrow. “Okayyyy,” she says, stretching the last syllable out, but Lucretia’s smile only gets bigger.

“I need a good reveal for the final product. It’ll take a few minutes for me to magic this all together,” Lucretia says, walking towards her with the silky fabric drawn taut between her hands, eyes sparkling in the sunlight. _So pretty_ , Lup thinks, taking a half second to admire the tilt of her smile, the way her fingers twist elegantly around the blindfold to fold it tight.

“Sure, Keesha. Maneuvering me deeper into your clutches, helpless and blinded,” Lup teases, and is rewarded with Lucretia’s tiny escape of a laugh, the way she bites her lower lip and looks away, that intoxicating blend of pleasure and shyness that still sends Lup into overdrive, makes her want to _catch_ her all over again.

“That’s for later,” Lucretia says primly as she lays the blindfold over Lup’s eyes, and a tiny shiver runs up Lup’s spine.

“Tease,” Lup complains, and this time Lucretia laughs for real, breath ghosting over Lup’s face. Lup’s vision darkens, but she can feel Lucretia brushing up against her, arms around her head to secure the blindfold.

“Hey Keesha?” Lup says, voice going a little quiet.

“Hmm?” Lucretia’s fingers slow, careful not to catch any of Lup’s hair in the knot.

“This is it, isn’t it? The Day?”

Lucretia stills, her whole body going rigid for a few heartbeats before relaxing with a long breath Lup can hear more than feel. Hesitating for just a moment, Lup reaches out for her blindly, connecting clumsily with her shoulder and curving her hand down around Lucretia’s waist.

“This is certainly _a_ day, yes,” Lucretia continues smoothly, leaning into Lup’s touch, and Lup grins. “Not the last one, I hope.”

A little wobble there, a hint something buried deep, but Lup knows better than to dig for it now.

“Not on your life, babe,” Lup says easily, urging Lucretia a little closer to her, and before she can say anything else Lucretia is kissing her, soft and slow. Lup sighs into her mouth, parting her lips and deepening the kiss.

“Now shush and give me a minute,” Lucretia murmurs, resting her forehead against Lup’s briefly, and Lup breathes her in; jasmine, rich cloves from the incense she burns sometimes, her citrus-y lotion, and something uniquely Lucretia. That person-smell that lingers under the collars of her shirts, clings to the sheets after she leaves their bed.

A rattling sound then, the soft _shunk_ as several somethings slot into something elses, and even a delightfully muffled ‘shit - come _on_ ’. Lup is on the verge of asking if she needs help, offering an extra pair of hands for whatever Lucretia deems worthy of their attention, when the noises settle down.

“There we go,” Lucretia says, satisfaction warming her voice. _Girl does love a job well-done._

“Can I —” Lup starts, but Lucretia’s already sliding the blindfold up and off, and Lup is left staring two huge contraptions that she has absolutely no clue what to do with.

“They’re hang gliders! For flying,” Lucretia says enthusiastically, taking Lup by the elbow and leading her over to the triangles of fabric attached to thin, flexible poles. “See, you hop in these little harnesses, and then you can steer the wings with your hands.”

Lucretia blinks, a little taken aback — she’s not sure what she was expecting from Lucretia, but Extreme Sports was definitely not it.

“Isn’t it easier to…” Lup says, but snaps her mouth shut before she can finish. _Forget it. It’s her thing._

“Use a fly spell, sure,” Lucretia continues, waving away her objection, and Lup feels a grin tugging at her lips despite her misgivings. “But that’s...you know, that’s arcane energy holding you aloft. You control it with your brain, not your body. This is...this is _better_. It’s like actually flying.”

Lucretia eyes are shining with anticipation, sketching out the movement of flight with her hands, and something in Lup’s chest tightens almost painfully, warmth spreading outward to the tips of her fingers. _What a nerd. What an utter, total nerd._

“All right, you convinced me,” Lup says with a gusty sigh, bending down to test the pliancy of the wings. “How do you work these damn things?”

“Oh! Oh Lup, you’re gonna love it, I promise,” Lucretia says happily, squeezing Lup’s elbow. “It’s easy, too — I double-checked all the conditions before we left, and it should be the perfect day for it. Here, I’ll show you.”

And almost before Lup’s ready for it, she’s strapped and hovering over the edge of the cliff, held in place by Lucretia’s telekinesis spell. The wind is picking up, already starting to catch under the taut fabric of the wings. Lup adjusts her grip on the metal bar, nerves and excitement pumping through her blood in equal measure. Lucretia’s peers into the sky one last time, then turns to face her with a grin.

“Ready?” Lucretia says, voice raised, and Lup nods. “Here we go!”

Another nudge of magic to get them over the edge, and Lup can feel when Lucretia releases the spell. They’re falling, falling fast, but then after a heart-stopping second the wind catches under the wings of her glider, and Lup is being lifted up, flying into the sky.

_Holy shit…_

“Holy shit!” Lup yells, her stomach swooping as she yanks back on the handles, rising even higher.

“I know, right?” Lucretia yells back, and Lup can’t see her — the huge wings of the glider blot out her peripheral vision — but she hears the exhilaration in her voice, unfettered and free in a way Lup’s only ever seen in the bedroom. _Hell yeah. Let’s do this._ And Lup _laughs_ , laughs into the wind whipping her face, the adrenaline sparking along her skin and cold air filling her lungs.

They stay out for a few hours, looping around each other and spiraling up and down above the grassy valley. It’s a rush almost beyond belief, and Lup gets what Lucretia was talking about — fly spells are great and all, but they’re not like _this_. Not adjusting your shoulders just so to catch the rising thermal to the your left, soaring upward into the clear blue sky. Not floating like a cloud, hovering and suspended, before peeling off into another slight dive.

Finally Lucretia calls a halt, gliding over to her and motioning toward the ground. Lup follows her descent, and just when she’s wondering how the hell they’re supposed to land these things Lucretia slows their motion to a stop. _More telekinesis. Homegirl’s been practicing._ Somehow Lucretia manages to unhook herself and climb gracefully to her feet before helping Lup scramble out of the zillion straps that were holding her together.

“Damn Keesha, you really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?” Lup says, a little breathless, and Lucretia grins happily as Lup flops down on her back in the grass.

“Well, we should head back soon — we’ll want shower and clean up before dinner,” Lucretia says, disassembling and shrinking down the pieces of the hang gliders before shoving them into her bag. Once she’s all packed up, she lays down next to Lup, and Lup can hear her back crack slightly as she settles on the cool dry earth.

“Dinner? You makin’ something special?” Lup slides her hand along the ground until she finds Lucretia’s, lacing her fingers through hers.

“Nah,” Lucretia says, with another mysterious grin, eyes closed. “I’m taking you out tonight. Wear something nice, but comfy shoes. Should be pretty crowded on the dance floor at this place.”

Lup raises an eyebrow. “Dinner _and_ dancing? You are sweeping me off my _feet_!” She’s teasing, but there’s something real there, too. Lucretia’s always so quiet in her affection, so wary of giving away too much; for her, this is tantamount to skywriting and shouting a marriage proposal on a busy street, and Lup can’t help feeling touched by the effort she knows Lucretia’s bringing to this.

“That’s the idea, right?” Lucretia says, grin softening to a wistful smile, and she turns suddenly so she’s leaning over Lup, arms on either side of her, blocking out the sun.

“Damn straight, babe,” Lup says, leaning up for another kiss.

——————————————————

The place is amazing; a barn-type room that must function as a meeting area and a dining hall at the same time. It’s filled with people eating and dancing, candles on every surface, and a live band playing merrily in the corner. Not exactly fancy – they’d seen some truly exquisite restaurants in their time by now — but it’s warm and cozy and the food smells incredible. The air sizzles with the scent of butter and roasting vegetables and some sort of herb combination that Lup can’t put her finger on. It’s perfect, actually, after a day of hiking and sick flight stunts.

Even more interestingly, Lucretia’s talking to the bartender like she’s been here dozens of times before, all smiles and secret little nods. _When did she find time to scope out the local flavor, anyway?_ Lucretia points toward a specific table, and then asks for a bottle of wine and some sort of tray to be delivered to them.

“C’mon,” Lucretia says, tugging Lup toward a semi-private corner with a tiny table tucked to the side.

Lucretia looks, in Lup’s opinion, fucking phenomenal, wearing a pretty little blue halter-neck dress that Lup’s fairly sure didn’t exist before a day or so ago. The knee-length skirt swirls around her when she moves, and in the candlelight her ears and wrist shine with simple, silver jewelry. It’s so different from how Lup normally sees her that she was momentarily taken aback when Lucretia showed up after her shower — Lup’s a fan of Lucretia in almost anything she wears (an exception being that hideous set of footie pajamas she insists on when it’s really cold, or the grease-stained t-shirt she wears when she’s helping Davenport with ship repairs), but this has got to be one of her top five faves.

“Where did you even find this place, Keesh?” Lup asks, sitting down and reaching for the food that had appeared almost instantly at their table.

“I have my ways,” Lucretia says with a pleased, smug grin, and pops something that looks like a mini-quiche into her mouth.

“Are those ways called Merle Has An Inescapable Nose For Finding The Nearest Watering Hole, and you just followed him one day?” Lup pours a generous glass of wine for them both, raising an eyebrow, and Lucretia giggles and shrugs.

“I never said they were _good_ ways,” Lucretia says reasonably, accepting the glass Lup offers her. “Take a big gulp of that, and then I’m taking you for a spin while band’s still hot.”

And she does. Holding her hand out chivalrously, Lucretia leads Lup to the dance floor and wraps one arm around her waist, pulling her close. She’s still for a moment, and Lup just barely catches her muttering ‘2, 3, 4’ before launching into one of the quick, peppy dance patterns Merle had drilled into their heads.

They’re still pretty good, as far as Lup’s concerned. Lucretia’s half distracted at first, clearly concentrating on remembering the steps, but Lup doesn’t mind. It’s just nice to be here with her, to feel her gaining confidence as she leads them both whirling across the dance floor. Soon enough she’s relaxed into the movements enough to dip Lup at the end of the song, her hand supporting Lup’s lower back, grinning like she’s the luckiest person on the damn planet.

“Another?” Lucretia asks, sweetly breathless, and Lup smiles at her.

“Anything you want, babycakes,” Lup says, and she means it. Anything, if it would make her happy.

“No, it’s your day —” Lucretia says with a small, crinkly frown.

“So it _is_ the Day!” Lup says triumphantly, and Lucretia’s expression smoothes into a reluctant grin. “I knew it!”

“Okay fine,” Lucretia says, rolling her eyes, trying and failing to look anything other than pleased. “So do you wanna keep dancing or not, you jerk?”

“Always,” Lup says, lifting Lucretia off her feet the tiniest bit to kiss her.

They dance for a few more numbers until the band takes a break, and retire to the table for more wine and food. Lucretia has a little more wine than usual, matching pace with Lup, and her movements and expressions loosen up when they go back on the dance floor for another round. Bigger smiles, wider motions with her arms and hands, and when they’re back at the table again, a pretty unsubtle leer down on the front of Lup’s shirt as she leans over to steal the last biscuit. _Little perv_ , Lup thinks fondly, and lets a hand drift down to rest on Lucretia’s knee as she sprawls out on the chair.

“Do you remember the first time we danced together?” Lup asks, ignoring the slight hitch of breath Lucretia lets out as she fiddles with the hem of her dress.

“Yes,” Lucretia says after a tiny moment. “Of course I do. When Merle taught us.”

“Mmhmm,” Lucretia hums, scooting her chair a little closer and running her thumb over the soft skin under Lucretia’s knee. Lucretia shivers — Lup can feel it under her hand — and a sudden pulse of arousal rolls through her.

“I – gods, this is…well. I…I wanted to kiss you so bad, that day.” Lucretia says with a huff of a self-deprecating laugh, eyes sliding slightly out of focus, but the smile on her face is sweet.

“You definitely should have,” Lup says, because she sure as shit remembers that day too. Lucretia pressed up against her, heart pounding and lips parted, breath humid on her cheek.

“I know that _now_ ,” Lucretia says, one corner of her mouth still turned up in a half smile. “Past-Lucretia is an idiot. But we can, uh...we can, you know. Make up for it.”

And Lucretia sits up straight, placing her hand on top of Lup’s and sliding it a little higher up her thigh. The candlelight flickers across her face, her pupils blown in the dim light, nearly swallowing the rich brown of her irises. She’s looking at Lup like it’s their first time all over again, like she’s teetering on the edge of something huge, desperate and achingly turned on already.

_Fuuuuuck._

“What _ever_ ’s gotten into you, Miss Lucretia,” Lup murmurs approvingly, her grin getting bigger, and leans over to kiss her.

Lucretia kisses back hungrily, her wine-sweet tongue sliding against Lup’s, tangling one hand in Lup’s hair. Her skin is warm under Lup’s fingers, slightly damp with sweat from all the dancing, and Lup is halfway convinced to just go for it, to slide aside Lucretia’s underwear and get a good feel of her girl’s pussy, find out just how aroused she is. Lucretia’s been teasing her all day, whether she admits it or not; she’s earned a little payback, hasn’t she?

Disengaging slightly from the kiss, Lup whispers in her ear. “Are you wet already, baby? If I touched you right now, would you like it?”

Lucretia gasps softly, spreading her legs just enough for Lup’s index finger to brush the edges of her underwear, a fine tremble running through her thighs.

“Lup. _Lup_ ,” she says, husky and low, and Lup’s lower belly twists with a hot coil of pleasure.

“That’s not a ‘no’,” Lup says, mock thoughtful, and it’s tempting, it’s _so_ tempting to move her finger just so, to drive Lucretia crazy enough with lust that she lets Lup finger her under the table, to see if Lucretia could keep quiet while she coaxed an orgasm out of her in public.

_Do I? I — Nah. I can’t. No way she won’t feel weird about it when she sobers up tomorrow morning._

“C’mon, let’s get out of here,” Lup says instead, withdrawing a little regretfully. “I’m assuming you don’t actually want me to fuck you right now, on this table.” Lucretia blinks, catching her breath slightly, and then shakes her head with another small laugh.

“No, not really,” she admits. “But I –” She’s looking at Lup heatedly, breathing hard, drawing the eye to the swell of her cleavage. Lup swallows hard.

“Oh yeah. Time to go, babe. I want my dessert,” Lup says wolfishly, grabbing Lucretia’s hand and dragging her to her feet.

—————————————————————

They barely make it into Lucretia’s room before Lup’s kissing her again, pressing her against the closed door with her hips. Lucretia gasps into her mouth, her hands sliding under Lup’s shirt and pulling her closer, kicking off her shoes and letting them fly across the room carelessly. If she were less occupied with peeling Lucretia out of her dress as quickly as she can, Lup might’ve been interested to check out Lucretia’s room — they don’t usually hang out there, almost always going to their room instead, and even through her haze of lust she notices more sketches taped to the walls, Lucretia’s robe hanging neatly on the bathroom door, the patchwork quilt she sometimes drags out for campfire nights.

 _Also, fun fact, the bed she got herself off in when we were trying so hard to seduce her_ , Lup thinks distantly, another lick of heat racing through her body. The mental image of that, of sweet, shy Lucretia with one hand between her legs and the other muffling the sounds she makes, imagining it was her or Barry touching her, has Lup tugging impatiently on the side-zipper of Lucretia’s dress.

“Keesh, I gotta say — the dress is nice, but did you have to weld yourself into it?” Lup grumbles, and Lucretia laughs breathlessly.

“Here, let me —” she says, stilling Lup’s hands and straightening up. Lup takes the moment to strip out of her (very easily removed, thank you very much) clothes, enjoying the way Lucretia’s eyes linger helplessly on her chest, the slope of her belly, between her legs.

“You can look, you know,” Lup says conversationally, completely unselfconscious in her nudity, and Lucretia bites her lip as she slides the zipper down carefully, revealing just a hint of her beautiful dark skin. “I don’t mind.”

Lucretia glances up at her again with an odd twist of her lips, but doesn’t answer. Just unties the knot of fabric at the nape of her neck and lets the dress slide to the floor. Lup hums appreciatively, reaching for her again.

“On the bed,” Lup says, nimbly unhooking her bra and letting it fall. Lucretia breathes out slowly, a pretty flush already darkening her cheeks and neck. “Wanna see you there, on your back, just like I used to imagine.”

A shudder runs through Lucretia, her nipples stiffening under Lup’s gaze, and Lup bites back a groan. Lucretia walks over to the bed slowly, sitting and then swinging her legs up to lay flat on her back. It’s cloudy outside tonight, no moonlight or starlight to shine down in the room, no extra illumination. Just her, in the dark. Shadow-Lucretia.

Lup climbs on the bed too, and before she’s even settled Lucretia is pulling her in for another kiss, pressing her body against hers almost desperately. _So hot for it already_ , Lup thinks a little deliriously. _Shaking under my hands_. Lup rolls them both so she’s on top of Lucretia, looming over her just a bit, Lucretia moving restlessly underneath her, a moan trapped behind her gritted teeth.

There’s a part of her that wants so badly to tie Lucretia down, to bring her to the edge til she’s begging, to break open that armor around her heart and show her how good it could feel to be open, expsed. Free. To have her at her mercy, and then launch her into the fucking _stratosphere_. But she knows it’s too much. Lucretia likes a little bit of power play, likes it when a playful tussle gets sexy, fucking _loved_ it when they held Barry down between them, but being fully restrained makes her panic. Too many serious control issues to every enjoy that.

 _More than one way to peel a orange_ , though, Lup thinks, another idea forming as she slides her hands down Lucretia’s arms.

“Keesha,” Lup whispers, leaning back slightly so she can see Lucretia’s face. “Hey Keesh, can I...do you wanna try something?”

“Huh? Y-yeah,” Lucretia says, breathing hard and licking her lips. “Sure, what — what did you wanna…”

Lup sits back further, balancing on the balls of her feet, and draws Lucretia’s arms up over her head. Carefully lacing Lucretia’s fingers through the decorative wire bedframe that she’s so fond of, she squeezes once then lets go.

“Can you stay like this for me, Keesh? Hold on tight? I want…” Lup breathes out, wanting to phrase it right so Lucretia understands. “I just want to make you feel good, I want you to... _let_ me...I want you to let me touch you, let me…”

“Yes,” Lucretia interrupts, her fingers tightening on the delicate, star-like swirls of the bed frame. “Yes, yes, I...I want that, too.”

“Yeah?” Lup asks, hopeful, trying valiantly to ignore the way her clit pulses at Lucretia’s breathy assent, how with her arms above her head her upper back arches just the tiniest bit, raising her breasts into delicious prominence.

“Yeah,” Lucretia says, smiling open-mouthed through her pants. “I’ll...try.”

“Sure, sure sweetheart,” Lup says quickly, leaning down to kiss her cheek, her neck. “If you need to tap out, just say so, or just let go. No pressure.”

“Mmmmm,” Lucretia hums, closing her eyes and canting her head to the side to give Lup more access, and Lup can’t resist nibbling a little on the damp, sensitive skin there. Lucretia lets out another muffled whimper, and Lup can feel the vibrations on the tip of her tongue.

She shuffles back a bit, straddling Lucretia’s ribcage, making sure Lucretia can still easily breathe and move around if she needs to. Watching carefully for her reaction, Lup cups Lucretia’s breasts in her hands and rolls both nipples between thumb and forefingers. Lucretia _moans_ , startlingly loud, her head thrown back and exposing the long line of her lovely throat.

“Nnnggg, Lup, that feels…” she pants, pushing her tits higher, encouraging and needy, and Lup grins.

“You like this?” Lup asks silkily, rocking her cunt lightly on Lucretia’s torso and pinching her nipples a little harder and tugging lightly.

“ _Yes_ ,” Lucretia says, voice ragged and low, her hips jerking upward even under the weight of Lup sitting across her, fingers still tight on the bed frame. “I...like it, I _like_ it…”

Grinding down on her to get a little friction on her cunt, Lup wonders a little wildly if Lucretia could come from just this, just dirty talk and a hand or mouth on her pretty tits. _Better wait for Barry to test that theory_ , she thinks with a grin. _He’d never forgive me if I did it without him._

“Me too, Keesh,” Lup says, giving in and releasing one of Lucretia’s breasts to rub a small circle over her own neglected clit, her other hand still playing with Lucretia’s nipple. Heat ripples outward from her cunt, the brush of her own finger making her heart pound in her chest, but she keeps talking, keepings working Lucretia with just her words. “Love how you look right now, so fucking sexy. Next time we’ll have Barry here to suck on your tits, flick your nipple with his tongue. That always gets you so hot, doesn’t it.”

“Unghh,” Lucretia gurgles, eyes screwed shut, panting and whimpering under Lup’s ministrations, and the pleasure that had been building all day washes over Lup all at once, hard and bright and sweet. Suddenly she’s desperate to come, doesn’t know if she’ll be able to wait much longer, not with Lucretia shivering and shaking like Lup’s the only thing she ever wanted. “Lup — _Lup_ —”

“Yeah, baby,” Lup breathes, scooting a little closer to Lucretia’s face, teasing both of them with the possibility. Lucretia opens her eyes and gets the idea at once, trying desperately to lurch forward. Her fingers almost unhook from the bed frame, and she stares at Lup’s cunt with wide eyes, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

“Mmm, so good baby, you’re doing so good,” Lup murmurs, gentling her hand on Lucretia’s breast, rubbing her thumb against the soft underside curve soothingly. “Keep those hands up; such a good girl, to stay so still for me.”

Lucretia groans softly, just like Lup had hoped; praise, any kind of praise, turns Lucretia’s crank like nothing else, and Lup can’t help dragging her middle finger a little harder across her clit, her orgasm building fast and hard. Lucretia’s just so buttoned down all the time, even with her and Barry she barely lets them get a glimpse of what she wants, what she needs. It’s intoxicating to strip all that away, to make her desperate for whatever Lup gives her, to feel her body flow toward her like water.

“Yeah, yeah, just stay like that for me. Stay just like that,” Lup pants, and Lucretia moans again, mouth open, lips shining. Something so erotic about that, that sweet mouth open for her, all Lup would have to do is inch a little closer and Lucretia would be right _there_...so eager, she’s practically _begging_ for it...

Before she realizes it, before she can stop it, Lup comes hard against her own fingers, pleasure rushing through her like a wave, a strangled sound escaping her mouth. And yeah, she’ll probably feel a little ashamed afterward, a little weird at least, but something about Lucretia’s slight moan of frustration as she’s denied Lup’s cunt makes it better, makes her orgasm burn a little brighter. _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._

“Fuck, I’m sorry, babe,” Lup says, once she’s got her voice back under control, aftershocks still thrumming through her. “That was...uh, oops? But I’m gonna take care of you baby, don’t worry. Not gonna leave you high and...dry.”

That last with a grin as she gives Lucretia’s breast a final squeeze before hoisting herself down, pushing Lucretia’s legs apart with little preamble. Lucretia doesn’t need any convincing, lifting her hips off the bed restlessly.

“Lup, please, please Lup,” she babbles, as Lup dips a single finger into her cunt. She’s soaking, hot and slick and slippery, shaking and jerking against her with the lightest touch. _Yeah, that’s it. Gonna make you feel so good,_ Lup thinks, not bothering to say it, just settling on her stomach and running the tip of her tongue over Lucretia’s hot little clit before pressing it flat against her, dragging against her public bone.

And Lucretia must’ve been about as wound up as she was, because with a low, slurred whine, Lucretia comes, hard. Shoving her pussy against Lup’s face, legs shaking with the release of tension, and Lup works her through it despite her surprise. Her hands still on Lucretia’s thighs, spreading her open just a tiny bit more, Lup keeps her mouth on her, avoiding the clit but rubbing her tongue against the entrance to her body.

“Oh, oh, oh,” Lucretia’s still murmuring, and when Lup glances up the length of her body she sees Lucretia’s hands still tight on the bed frame. _Good girl. Good, good girl._

“Want more?” Lup asks, pressing two fingers into Lucretia, barely letting her come down from her orgasm, wanting to keep her stimulated enough to come again quickly. “I do. I wanna fuck you again, Lucretia. Wanna feel your cunt dripping down my hand. Is that what you want?”

“Yes, yes,” Lucretia moans, nearly incoherent, thrusting greedily against Lup’s hand. “ _Anything._ Please, just...fuck me, _fuck_ me.”

Lup lets out a hard breath, a twist of arousal curling hot and thick in her gut, pulsing between her legs. _Few things hotter than Lucretia begging to get screwed,_ Lup thinks triumphantly, her own pussy starting to throb with every whimper, every throaty cry.

This time she doesn’t tease, doesn’t try to draw it out or slow it down; this time she wants to give it to her girl so good she’ll see stars. Maneuvering her hand so she can get her thumb on or around Lucretia’s clit, Lup starts a hard, quick rhythm with her fingers. There’s a spot somewhere that Lucretia likes — up and toward her, almost like she’s holding her by the cunt — and once she finds it Lucretia gets louder. In just a few minutes she’s trembling, shaking, while Lup keeps up a steady litany of praise and dirty talk.

“Lup, that feels —!” Lucretia’s voice cracks, her back arched, eyes wide and unseeing. “Oh my god, I’ve never — fuck, I’m — I think I —”

Lup keeps going, keeps pressing up against a slightly rough patch of flesh inside her, rubbing in tandem with her thumb. She’s close, she’s _gotta_ be close, and just as Lup’s thinking she could lean down and suck on her clit a little to help her get over the edge, Lucretia lets out a long, loud cry and convulses around Lup’s hand. A gush of fluid spurts out of her, then another, drenching Lup’s hand and the sheets below. Lucretia’s cunt is spasming harder than Lup’s ever felt, milking her fingers in rhythmic, hard pulses.

“Fuck, did you just…?” Lup’s staring at her, amazed and turned on and more than a little proud. “Oh _fuck_ that’s hot, that’s so fucking hot…”

Lucretia doesn’t answer, just pants and shivers slightly, and Lup gives her cunt a final, loving press before withdrawing and crawling up her body. Gently, ignoring her own body clamoring for attention, she unpeels Lucretia’s fingers from the bed frame, whispering how good she is, how sexy that was and rubbing her thumbs into her palms.

“C’mere,” Lucretia says finally, pulling her hands away and reaching down for Lup’s waist. “Want to — just, c’mere.”

Lup swallows, her lower belly tightening in anticipation, already soaking from making Lucretia come in such a showy, unmistakable way. “Yeah? It’s not too much?” She wants to, god she wants to so badly, but that was a little more intense than she’d intended and she doesn’t want to push her too hard.

“Uh-uh,” Lucretia keeps tugging weakly at her hips, and Lup bites back another moan before letting herself be maneuvered right above Lucretia’s face, settling her thighs on either side of her head.

“Like this?” Lup wants to be sure, to be absolutely sure, but Lucretia makes an annoyed sound and wraps her arms fully around Lup’s hips, urging her down on her open mouth.

The heat of her, slick and steady, makes Lup moan. Lucretia swipes her tongue against her clit, her clever lips sucking around her heated cunt, and Lup tries hard to not just grind down onto her face. But Lucretia must want that, she _must_ ; her arms are tight around Lup, drawing her closer, her mouth soft and sweet against her.

“Keesha, baby, you feel so good,” Lup says, pleasure sparking across her skin, one hand braced on the wall and the other tangled in Lucretia’s hair. “Loved seeing you come, seeing you gush all over me.”

Lucretia sucks harder on her clit, offsetting the pressure with her tongue; it’s _amazing_ , Lup can feel every tiny movement of her mouth and lips, but it’s Lucretia’s arms around her that does it. Tight, holding her as close as possible, the opposite of pushing her away; Lup keens as the pleasure building her stomach bursts like fireworks, sending her crashing over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, _Keesha_ —” Lup cries, riding her mouth, smearing her slick over her face as she comes down from the incredible high.

Finally, after she unclenches her legs and opens her eyes, she can feel Lucretia still moving her tongue against her. Slow and gentle, not trying to get her off again really, but it sends little shivers through Lup all the same. Tapping her lightly on the upper arm, Lup scoots back with an ungainly wobble and collapses down next to Lucretia, who immediately wraps her in a full body hug. Lup snuggles into the embrace, pressing her cheek against Lucretia’s collarbone and fighting back a huge, dopey smile.

“Hey, how are your hands?” Lup asks after a few long moments of afterglow, guiding one of Lucretia’s arms in front of her to examine her palms.

“Fine,” Lucretia assures her, though Lup sees a worrying imprint that hasn’t faded. “It’ll go away on it’s own.”

“Hmmm,” Lup says doubtfully, peeking over the curve of Lucretia’s body at the bathroom, wondering if it’s worth it to get an ice pack.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Lucretia says, shifting and stretching so Lup is flush next to her again. “That was...I mean, not wild about this huge wet spot in the middle of my bed, but...” She wrinkles her nose cutely, and Lup almost laughs at how she can be so _fastidious_ ten minutes after shoving her face in Lup’s cunt like she was starving.

“Yeah, let’s talk about _that_ , babe,” Lup says, letting her hand go for now but making a mental note to check on her in the morning. “In my defense, I was not expecting that to happen — did you know you could squirt?”

Lucretia makes a little face at the term, which again Lup notes down for future teasing, and bites her lip. “I...I mean, yeah, it’s happened before, but never with anyone else. I can do it to myself, but even then. I mean, it’s never been like _that_ before.”

“So you can fuck yourself with your fingers enough to squirt?” Lup asks, rubbing her foot absently against Lucretia’s ankle. “You’ll have to teach me that one.”

“Uhhh…” Lucretia says, glancing up at the ceiling. “Not exactly. I used to have a...you know…”

Lup sits upright, staring down at Lucretia, her jaw hanging open. “Wait just a goddamn minute! You have _sex toys_ on this ship and you’ve never once mentioned it? You’re totally holding out on us!” She’s torn, pinging back and forth between annoyance and utter delight. _Depends on if she’ll let me use ‘em on Barry, maybe._

“Not anymore! They got..” Lucretia stammers, looking like she deeply regrets entering this conversation. “I, uh. I...lost them. Left them behind on a cycle a while back, after I met...someone...”

“ _Lucretia_ ,” Lup says, having decided firmly on delight now. “Did you bring sex toys to fuck an _alien_? And then _lose_ them??”

“I—!” Lucretia’s sputtering now, mouth working soundlessly, and Lup dissolves into giggles. After a few seconds, Lucretia cracks too, and Lup tumbles her back in the sheets, wet spot be damned.

“You know, you should save the full story for Barry,” Lup says, once she’s gotten control of herself again, tracing her fingertips down Lucretia’s spine. “He’ll get such a kick out of it.”

“Fine,” Lucretia says, utterly failing to keep the smile off her face. She’s quiet for a long moment, before saying, more tentatively then Lup’s heard her in a long time. “Hey, uh. Lup? Did you…”

“It was perfect,” Lup interrupts, looking at Lucretia seriously, trying to _make_ her feel how true it is. “Everything, all of it. Perfect.”

Lucretia blinks, her smile shifting into something else. A little sad, maybe. A little lost. Lup cuddles closer to her, wanting to feel the beat of her heart under her skin, to warm up the part of her that always seems so cold and distant.

“Let’s just stay here tonight,” she says instead, rearranging the pillows one-handed. “Barry’ll figure it out, and I’m officially exhausted.”

“Okay,” Lucretia says softly, and she tugs a blanket over both of them and settles down next to her.

And just as Lup is drifting asleep, warm and relaxed and comfortable, Lucretia’s arm around her waist, she hears Lucretia murmur something that sounds something like ‘I love you’. _I love you too_ , she wants to tell her, but she’s already falling into the dark, shifting sands of sleep. _I’ll tell her tomorrow. We’ve still got so much time._


	2. Chapter 2

It’s late, when Barry wakes up; sunlight is already streaming in through the small porthole in his room, the blankets twisted around his legs warm with accumulated heat. He blinks, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he looks around he sees the blurry figure Lucretia curled up on the couch reading a book. She glances up as he stirs, thin-framed reading glasses perched precisely on her nose, and smiles.

“Morning,” she says softly, marking her page and setting the book down on the coffee table.

“Hey,” Barry says, yawning and reaching over for his glasses. “Jeez, _is_ it even still morning? You shouldn’t’ve let me sleep so late.” The last with a rueful smile as he pulls himself into a sitting position, stretching his arms up over his head.

“Your body needed it,” Lucretia says simply, shrugging one shoulder and tucking her glasses away. “And anyway, there’s no point in getting you up just to put you back down again.”

Barry blinks. “Huh?”

“I’ve got a...well, it’s not really a surprise, I guess, since you asked for it,” Lucretia says, her smile flickering slightly before reigniting. “But brunch first. C’mon — I set it up out on the deck, when you’re ready.”

 _Oh. Oh shit, it’s today. The Day, it’s today_ , Barry thinks, and scrambles gracelessly out of bed, nearly tripping over the pillow that had wedged itself near his feet. “Why didn’t you wake me up? If it’s...you know. I should’ve been up _hours_ ago if we’re —”

“Tch, don’t be ridiculous,” Lucretia interrupts, brushing away his words with a flick of her wrist. “You’ve been sleep-deprived for weeks; ensuring some quality shut-eye is the best thing I could do for you. It might all be downhill from here, really.”

“I doubt that very much,” Barry says, grinning at her as he tugs on his clothes, rummaging around for his belt.

They have breakfast together outside, Lucretia sipping a mimosa and nibbling at the edge of a Danish as the warm air settles against them both. The tray on the table is piled with fruit, pastries, and little egg-bake things that Taako usually only makes for special occasions, coffee and juice and champagne all arranged neatly to the side. After confirming for the fourth time that everyone else has already eaten, Barry helps himself to a little bit of everything.

It’s peaceful, just the two of them out here; normally breakfast is a family affair, all of them jostling and laughing with Dav’s maps spread out underneath their plates, dodging elbows and breaking into teams for the day and trying to swipe the last bite of food before Magnus inhales it. Sitting here quietly, waking up slowly, with Lucretia’s steady presence next to him is surprisingly lovely.

As he polishes off a final orange slice, fingers still a little sticky with the juice, Lucretia stands to face him with a small, lopsided smile.

“Ready?” she says, handing him a napkin, and he breathes out into the morning sunlight.

Before the Starblaster, before the IPRE and the mission and _Lup_ , his answer would’ve been ‘no’. No, he couldn’t be ready, not if he didn’t know exactly what was coming next. No, he would’ve been too intimidated by her beauty and her intelligence to be vulnerable with her, worried of what she’d think of him. No, he _couldn’t_ have, he couldn’t have let her lead him into even the most mundane of unknowns, because back then Barry was terrified. Of other people, of what would happen if he ever stopped being useful and productive for even a moment. Of himself most of all, his own failings and shortcomings.

But now, after he’s saved whole worlds and his friends’ lives over and over, after decades with a family so perfect he knows he’ll never know anything that rivals it, after a love so encompassing that he’s filled to the brim with its light, all he feels when he stands to meet Lucretia is...anticipation. Trust. Deep, abiding affection for all she’s done for him, and a tenderness that makes something tighten in him at the sight of her smiling down at him.

“Ready,” he says, grinning, and she takes his hand in hers.

————————————————

Ten minutes later he’s standing dumbfounded in what he’s fairly certain used to be Lucretia’s room, but now looks like a cozy, miniature spa. There’s crisp white linen covering the walls, the same fabric as the reclining chair in the center of the room. A massage table is tucked discreetly on one side, with the faint scent of jasmine incense wafting gently in the air. She must’ve dimmed the normally one-brightness-only overhead light somehow, and candles are burning on the two side tables that normally house Lucretia’s notes for the day. Wait, is that…chimes? Definitely chimes coming from somewhere…

Before he can do more than open his mouth to comment on her wildly fluctuating interior decorating tastes, Lucretia’s handing him a fluffy robe with a pleased grin.

“For you. Get changed.”

“Seriously?” Barry says, laughing a little as he takes the robe automatically. “Why?”

“You heard me,” she says, and Barry meets her eyes. She’s calm as ever, quiet even, but it’s clear she’s not asking. _Commanding, more like._ Barry shivers slightly, a warm jolt spiking between his legs.

Lucretia gets like this sometimes; usually only when the three of them are in bed together, rolling around in sweetly chaotic tumble of limbs and _someone_ needs to take the wheel. She’ll tell them how she wants them, arranging them to her internal specifications, sometimes just watching while he fucks Lup exactly how she tells him to. He loves it, knows Lup does too — showing off for her, getting her off without even touching her. But she’s never been like this when it’s the two of them, never when she’s standing fully clothed in front of him. And a pulse of that feeling now, a twinned desire to perform and submit, whispers across his skin like electricity.

“Okay,” he says, and lowers her chin in acknowledgement. He shucks out of his clothes and slips the robe on, watching out of the corner of his eye as her gaze flickers appreciatively over his body.

It had surprised him at first, how openly and greedily she looks at him. She’s like that with Lup too, but Lup is gorgeous and ethereal and the pinnacle of sexiness. He’s just…himself. Ordinary. Nondescript. And even after Lup told him over and over again, out loud in public and whispered breathily in his ear, that he was so handsome, that she wanted him so bad, he’d always had it in the back of his mind that that was just…Lup. Her thing, her kink, her odd attraction to this normal-looking guy, and he trusted in her desire even if he never really believed it could be anything other than a one-off.

But that first night, when Lucretia looked at him like she was _starving_ , naked longing carved into every line of her pretty face, he had started to wonder if maybe Lup had been right all along.

Once he’s fully encased in the fluffy, slightly-too-big robe, Lucretia gestures towards the chair and pulls up another small table to the side. He sits, sinking into the softness of the cushions, and she brings several small pots over to the table that smell vaguely earthy, like the forest after rainfall. Dabbing her index finger delicately into one of the pots, she rubs the dark brown substance between finger and thumb before nodding briskly.

“So your job now,” Lucretia says, leaning over him slightly. “is to relax. Close your eyes, and let me take care of you.”

“Sounds like you get the short end of the stick in this deal,” he says with a slight smile, but he closes his eyes all the same.

“That’s not true, but I don’t have the time to explain how wrong you are right now,” Lucretia says, her usual clipped tone bleeding into the sexy persona for just a moment, and Barry smiles. “Just sit still and don’t fidget.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Barry says, half-joking, and he hears her smother a chuckle.

First she rubs the dark mud concoction on his face, murmuring something about hydration and cleansing. While that dries, she places his feet gently In a tub of steaming, scented water. He hisses at first, but once he gets used to it the heat feels incredible on his sore feet. Before the water can cool completely she takes his feet out gently and scrubs lightly at his heels with a bristled brush. He tries to protest, to tell her that this is unnecessary, that she doesn’t need to wash his feet for Pan’s sake, but she just tightens her grip warningly, and he quiets down.

 _Relax. Your job is to relax_ , he repeats to himself, and doesn’t protest again when she starts pressing her thumbs into his palms, rubbing out the accumulated strain from writing all day.

Just when the mud on his face starts to tighten uncomfortably, Lucretia wipes his hands clean and begins peeling the mask away. She’s gentle, and only once she’s wiped his face clean does she speak again.

“You can open your eyes now,” she says quietly.

He does, blinking slowly, feeling pleasantly hazy and float-y. The room is brighter than he remembered, and he’s grateful Lucretia found a way to keep the lights dimmed and soft. She’s smiling at him, holding out a hand to help him stand.

“Wow, that was…” he says, wanting her to know how peaceful it was, now nice it felt, but she gives a spare shake of her head.

“Not over yet, cowboy,” she says, eyes glinting in the candlelight.

“Hmmm?” He can’t manage much more than that, and Lucretia’s lips curve into a satisfied smile.

“Strip and hop up here, face down,” she says, tilting her head toward the massage table.

“Really pulling out all the stops, huh?” he says smiling back at her, already tugging the robe off and draping it over the back of the chair.

“For you? Anything,” she says, still in full sexy mode, but Barry’s sure he hears a tiny crack in her voice, a thread of pained, desperate love quickly shoved away.

But better not to draw attention to it – she hates that, and right now he wants to please her as much as she wants to please him. He lays down like she instructed, face down with his head in the funny little porthole pillow, resting his arms on either side.

The first, cool press of her hands against his shoulders is heavenly, and he has to bite back a groan when she presses the heels of her hands just below his shoulder blades. She’s thorough, rubbing slow circles into any knots she finds, starting with his back but moving to each arm and then down to his legs. It’s a little painful in spots, but everytime he makes a noise of discomfort she backs off before approaching the knot from a different angle.

Finally, she tells him to flip over to his back. He sighs, complying without a word, but sucks in a quick breath when her palms glide over his thighs. Not a massaging, deep-tissue pressure, but light, with the first drag of her fingernails against his skin. The oil she’d been using to help smooth the press of her fingers is warmer now, heating him up, and he can’t hide the obvious twitch of his cock.

“Lu-Lucretia,” he says, opening his eyes.

“Yes?” She’s bent over him slightly, pushing his legs apart, her eyes fixed on his rapidly hardening erection.

“I – uh – that’s not exactly relaxing,” he says, trying not to jerk upwards when she places her palms delicately against the cradle of his hips, her thumbs barely brushing the tangle of his pubic hair.

“It will be afterwards,” she says, the ghost of a grin flitting across her features, and her hands move lower, canting his hips up and encouraging him to bend his knees. Her fingertips brush the curve of his ass, a shiver of sensation that makes him groan softly, and she starts rubbing slowly between his asscheeks.

“Do you…” she says, faltering for the first time today. “I thought you might like it if I touched you…here…”

And her finger, still slick with the massage oil, presses gently against the entrance of his body.

_Ohhhhh. Oh, she wants to…Fuck…_

“I – I mean, do you want to?” Barry asks, his body shifting toward her finger traitorously, and the eager movement of his body makes her smile.

“Very, very much,” she says smoothly. “So lie back, and I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Yes, yes,” he says breathlessly, his lower stomach tensing in hot, eager anticipation.

Arching his back slightly, Barry spreads his legs to give her more access, but she keeps her touches light and exploratory at first. Teasing him open with one hand and holding the base of his cock with her other, Barry whimpers at the dual sensations and shifts, trying to get her to do more, to stroke him harder, to press her fingers inside of him.

“Hold on for just a second, baby. Gotta get you ready first,” she says, and withdraws completely for a moment. Barry’s breathing is loud in his own ears, a mix of embarrassment and arousal twisting in his groin at being so exposed, naked on a table with his ass pushed out, while his lover effortlessly turns him into putty with the slightest touch.

She comes back with her hands dripping with lube, and this time when she circles the rim of his asshole she presses with more intent. Barry breathes through the burn – it hurts, but it feels good too, feels good to look down and see the bent angle of Lucretia’s arm, her palm parallel to the ground, to have her fucking him like this.

“Good, it’s good,” he says, voice already breathy and ragged. “More, please. I can…I can take more.”

“Mmm, can you now?”

And she slides another finger in and presses upward, stroking his cock at the same time, and Barry moans as the pleasure tightens into a hard knot at the base of his spine. He bucks against her, riding her hands, and the slight chuckle she lets out only makes him burn brighter, hotter.

Finally, she crooks the fingers inside of him and presses upward, finding a spot inside him that makes him _moan_ , loud and needy, and she starts moving her hands in earnest. Every touch, every little movement against his prostate or his cock, has him whimpering, panting, his voice thick with lust.

“Do you like that?” she asks, and he nods frantically.

“Yes, gods yes. I need.. I need just a little more…”

He’s close, he’s so close he can feel his orgasm cresting like a wave, his thighs tense and trembling under her. _Maybe one more finger…Or if she would just keep her thumb right there…_

“Awfully tempting to keep you like this,” Lucretia muses, amusement and arousal coloring her voice, deepening it. “You sure are pretty on your back.”

“ _Please_ , please Lucretia. Please, just let me...”

And with a final, merciful press of her fingers and twist of her wrist, Barry comes with a hoarse shout, spilling over her fingers and his stomach. He breathes hard through his orgasm, aftershocks running through him as he shivers.

Lucretia is murmurs something indistinct as she slowly withdraws her hands, and Barry grimaces a little at the odd sensation.

“Let me get you cleaned up,” she says softly, straightening up, and he hums in lazy, blissed out assent.

The sounds of running water, gentle splashing, and she comes back out with a damp, warm cloth. She rubs the mix of oil and semen off him, lingering slightly with a soft sound, and he reaches out to take her hand.

“That was…wow….” He says, and she smiles. “I mean, I think I already said that? But seriously. Wow is the name of the game today.”

“I’m glad,” she says, squeezing his hands, and he tries to tug her closer for a kiss.

“Your turn,” he says, “You deserve it, after that.”

“Ah ah, ah” she says, laughing a little and resisting. “Not right now, buster. I’ll wait for my turn – plenty of time later.”

Barry raises his eyebrows – normally none of them are shy about taking pleasure, about accepting what’s offered. If she doesn’t _want_ to that’s fine, of course, but…

“Can’t I…I just want to see how much you liked it,” Barry says coaxingly. “I think you did, but if I could…you know. Just a taste, if there’s not time for anything else?”

He hides his grin, going for huge-eyed innocence, but inside he’s smugly confident. He knows she loves it when he tongues her to orgasm, that she won’t be able to resist once he gets his mouth on her. If he takes his time, he thinks as he watches the rapid pulse in her neck, he could probably get it up again to fuck her, to hear that sweet catch in her breath when he slides his cock into her.

Lucretia considers, tapping an elegant finger on her mouth.

“Just a taste,” she says finally.

_Yes. Gotcha._

Barry breathes out hard, already reaching for her, but she steps back the tiniest bit. Slowly, she hikes her skirt up, revealing the unfairly lacy underwear she apparently decided to wear despite this new ‘no touching’ rule. Which is just _mean_ if you think about it, but Barry can’t get too mad, not when she’s sliding her hand between her legs, not when she’s...when she’s…

 _Fuck_ , he can’t really see with her hand and the underwear in the way, but she’s sucking in a hard breath and her body is twitching just so; she _must_ be pushing a finger inside herself. His mouth is hanging open, he probably looks ridiculous, but he can’t tear his gaze away from the subtle movements of her hand, the stretch of the fabric over her knuckles. With a final press of the heel of her hand to her pubic mound, she pulls herself free and takes a step closer, two fingers glistening.

“Open,” she says, and Barry’s brain takes a second to catch up.

“Huh?”

“Open your mouth, Barry,” she says patiently, and Barry gets the idea as she extends her fingers just a tiny bit, pointing toward his mouth. He moans a little, unable to stop himself, and licks his lips eagerly. Lucretia smiles, slow and sexy, resting her fingertips on his lips.

“Go on,” she says quietly, and Barry doesn't miss how her voice has gone husky, how her eyes go dark and half-closed.

_Fuck. Fuck._

He draws her fingers into his mouth, savoring the taste and smell of her, sucking her slippery fingers slow and greedy. He could do this for her somewhere else, if she’s just let him, he thinks with another groan, and parts her two fingers with his tongue, mimicking what he wants to do to her cunt. She lets out a sharp, breathy sound that goes straight to his dick, and suddenly pulls her fingers out of his mouth with a wet pop.

“That’s enough,” she says firmly, and Barry’s torn between mild frustration at being denied and deep satisfaction at his ability to wring a reaction out of her no matter how coy she’s playing. _Time for that later, she said. I’ll just have to hold her to that,_ he thinks.

————————————————

Later, after they’re cleaned up and dressed, Lucretia leads him out to a small, free-standing building a few dozen feet away from the Starblaster. It’s tiny, probably not more that one medium-sized room, and Barry glances at her for a clue before pushing the door open at her encouraging nod.

It’s…a room. A room with some odd decorations: a bookcase with very few books, a painting of water lilies that takes up almost an entire wall, a safe a slot for five different keys, a chart of the arcane elements, a huge hourglass standing on one side, even more that he can’t quite take in all at once.

“It’s…uh…” he says, not wanting to disappoint her, but completely flummoxed as to what he’s supposed to do with this thing.

“It’s a puzzle room!” Lucretia says happily, grabbing him by the elbow and dragging him in farther. “You have to find the keys, just from the clues in the room. And then if you find them all in the allotted time, you unlock the big safe and get a prize!”

Barry blinks. “Wait, really? A huge puzzle?”

“The hugest. Built and planned by yours truly,” she says, grinning at him, and his heart flutters in his chest.

“You built all of this? For me?” Barry says, and Lucretia rolls her eyes in a familiar, affectionate way.

“Of course. Well, for us, really,” she says, releasing him to run her fingers over the painting’s canvas. “I’m…I mean, if you want, I was gonna do it with you.”

“Huh? But I mean, you built it, right?” Barry says dubiously. He’d love her help, if he’s being honest, but Lucretia’s not exactly adept at keeping the answers to herself once she’s figured out a problem. There’s no way she’ll be able to give him good enough hints without spoiling the answer.

“And then fed the solutions to Fisher,” she says, grinning even bigger, and Barry stares at her, amazed.

“But, you still remember, you know, that it exists…” he says, more to himself than to her, thinking through the logistics.

“It’s all a matter of being careful with what you give him. Very, very careful,” Lucretia says wryly.

_That is...damn impressive..._

“Well, here’s to being careful, because I’m gonna need your help with this,” Barry says happily, surveying the room interestedly, watching as Lucretia turns over the huge hourglass and they get to work.

They solve it, with just a tiny bit of time to spare; the final key was hidden inside a color-coded book jacket, found by Barry as the last few grains of sand spilled into the bottom of the hourglass. And when they scramble to unlock the final safe, laughing breathlessly as they shove the keys into the slots, the door opens to reveal two small bags of Taako-original homemade caramels, wrapped in brightly-colored wax paper. Barry’s favorite, and a rare treat.

By the time they finish and eat the early picnic dinner Lucretia had brought along while discussing the finer points of each other’s puzzle-solving brilliance, the bright sun is casting long shadows on the ground. Lucretia nibbles on her lip and checks something on a piece of paper, glancing up at the sky.

“So I know this has been kind of sleep-centric, but I think we might need a nap before the last thing,” Lucretia says, her gaze pinging back and forth between Barry and the horizon. “It’s a late-night sort of adventure.”

Barry raises an eyebrow curiously, but doesn’t push.

“Sure, babe. Embarrassingly enough, a nap doesn’t sound half-bad,” he says, and she smiles gratefully at him.

The nap is perfect, cuddling close in Barry and Lup’s room (their room, he thinks, but he’s pretty sure she doesn’t think of it like that yet), an ever-lit candle burning in the window. After the massage and the sex and the puzzle put together by one of the most cunning people he’s ever met, Barry’s not _not_ tired, is all. Especially not when Lucretia crawls under the blankets with him, curling around his back and pulling him against her.

Barry wakes up first, drifting up out sleep gradually until he opens his eyes to Lucretia’s sleeping face. _Beautiful_ , he thinks, gently stroking the graceful curve of her cheek, fingertips drifting down to trace her full lower lip, until Lucretia blinks slowly awake.

“Yikes, sorry about that,” she says, voice still thick with sleep. “Didn’t mean to pass out along with you.”

“That’s okay,” Barry says, smiling as she scrunches up her nose.

“Well, we should head out soon,” she says, looking at the darkening sky through the window. “One last stop on this train.”

Barry can’t help glancing down the front of her dress as she twists, the curve of her breasts drawing his gaze. She’s cute when she’s all sleep-rumpled, her legs tangled up with his, soft skin under his hands.

“Hmmm. Don’t suppose this train could make a quick detour,” Barry muses, sliding a hand over Lucretia’s thigh, nudging between her legs. “I can think of a pit stop I’d like to make along the way.”

Lucretia laughs, little puff of breath against his neck, and before she can answer he kisses her, pressing her down into the warm tangle of blankets.

“C’mon, I still owe you one from earlier,” he murmurs, kissing her neck. “Want me to pay up?”

And even though her body is arching towards his, even though he can feel her pulse pick up, something in her face shutters at his words. Her eyelashes flutter, her mouth twists downward the tiniest bit, and when she speaks there’s the faintest hitch in her voice that sounds almost like...mourning. Like grief.

“Bar, you don’t...after everything you and Lup…,” she swallows, her eyes sliding away from his face, her smile gone brittle. “You don’t owe me anything. Not a damn thing.”

And all of a sudden his throat feels tight and raw, a weight settling on his chest like a stone, because he can _see_ how brave she’s trying to be but she’s _afraid_ , she’s so afraid for them.

It’s not the first time it’s occurred to Barry — what will happen to all of them after the world-saving. Lup tends to focus on the short-term, on solving the immediate problem and worrying about the aftermath once the top priorities are taken care of. It’s good, it enables her to trust her instincts and make hard calls fast in the midst of chaos, allows her to focus her incredible intellect on getting all of them out alive when every other option has failed.

But Lucretia’s like him — she sees the big picture, can’t help following the infinite, branching pathways of their choices to the endgame. Once the ritual is complete, the gulf between her and them will only grow wider with time. Even if they survive, even if they defeat the hunger, even if they win and save the universe and everything they hope for comes true, he and Lup are on a path now that Lucretia can’t follow.

It’s a choice they all had to make. Their sacrifice, to salvage what could still be saved.

“Hey, hey. Listen, it’s gonna...it’s gonna be okay—” he starts, his hands on her gentling, to soothe rather than inflame.

“I know,” she interrupts, shaking her head slightly as if to sluice off her sudden melancholy. “I know it will. But more importantly, you need to come with me before we lose the light completely.”

And she hops out of the bed, rummaging around in her closet and demurely slips her bra back on under her dress. A long, cable-knit cardigan follows, on top of her dress, with a huge pocket that looks custom-built for her journals.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?” Barry says, running a hand through his hair and grabbing his glasses off the nightstand.

“Isn’t it more fun not to know?” A smirk then, mostly her but a hint Lup’s wild influence too, and not for the first time Barry wonders what he must’ve done in a previous life to get this _lucky_ , the luckiest nerd in this whole universe.

They’re not going far, just up to the top of a nearby hill. The sun is fully set now, the sky mellowing into dark blues and purples. Lucretia summons a few spheres of cool, white light to guide them over the rest of the way there. It’s pretty up here, with the wind rustling through the grass and the subtle tang of the rich, dark earth. The view is phenomenal, actually — he hadn’t realized the hill was this steep on the other side, but they have a beautiful panorama of the valley below, as well as an unobstructed view of the darkening sky above.

A sudden wooshing sound as Lucretia shakes out the patchwork quilt that normally covers her bed, arranging it on the flattest part of the ground she can find.

“Stargazing,” she says, glancing up and seeing Barry’s doubtless puzzled expression. “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight — I thought you might like to see it.”

“Oh really? That’s so cool!” Barry says enthusiastically, and the lip-biting smile he gets in return sends a peal of warmth ribboning through him.

Lucretia pulls a few plushy cushions out of her bag and scatters them haphazardly on the quilt, followed a bottle of wine and two plastic cups.

“Here. Sit,” she says, plopping down cross-legged on the quilt, her skirt floating around her knees for a moment before settling gently around her. He pulls the wine bottle from her hands as he sits next to her, pouring two glasses and setting them aside.

And while the sky darkens and the stars begin to shine, while they wait for the meteor shower to light up, they just...talk. Not about the Hunger, or world save-age, or plans for the next excursion. They talk about inconsequential things, simple things; stories from Barry’s childhood about his favorite cousins, the plot of a book Lucretia had finished just before she left for the Starblaster, the odd intersection of cranky and adorable that Lup embodies when she’s overly tired. They start tracing the patterns they see in the stars, picking out likely constellations in the sky above and jotting them down in Lucretia’s journal.

As the air cools around them Barry draws Lucretia into his arms, pulling her up against his chest while he rests his back against a quickly transfigured cushion to firm it up. She’s a little taller than him and has to shift a bit to get comfortable, but soon she settles against him with a quiet, happy hum. He breathes, slow and steady, savoring how relaxed she feels, the warmth of her cheek on his shoulder, the curl of her fingers against his palm. The stars shine brighter and brighter above them, and Barry whispers a small warming spell to keep the wind at bay.

Finally, after what must be a few hours, Lucretia heaves a sigh and twists slightly to look at him.

“I think we’ve been stood up by the cosmos,” she says, her face half in darkness, shadows pooling in the hollow of her throat. “Sorry.”

“What? Don’t be silly,” Barry says, smiling at her gently. “This was great, Lu.”

“I guess,” she acknowledges with a small shrug. “I just wanted it to be…”

“I know,” he says softly, pressing his lips to her temple briefly. “And this is perfect, just the way it is.”

Lucretia says nothing, as beautiful and solemn as if she were carved from marble, the cool breeze swirling around them both, and Barry feels a sharp ache behind his ribs.

“C’mere,” he says, hoist her slightly in his arms for a better angle, and kisses her before she can say anything else.

It is perfect, the day she gave him, but he knows she’ll never believe it. Nothing’s ever perfect enough for Lucretia, especially not herself, but it’s pointless to try to convince her with words. Better to show her; better to coax her mouth open with his tongue, better to brush his thumb over her hardening nipple and feel her shudder, better to hook his feet under her ankles and spread her legs just a little bit wider.

“Barry,” she gasps, her voice taut, and his cock twitches at how _good_ she sounds like this.

“Yeah? You ready to collect yet?” Barry murmurs, sliding his hand around to the inside of her thigh, pushing up the hem of her dress.

“Ungg, _Barry_ ,” she moans, arching back to kiss him again, her ass pressing against his stiff cock, and Barry grips her leg a little harder than intended.

Part of him wants to slow down — that’s the way they usually do it, when it’s just the two of them, slow and deep, hard enough to drive everything else away — but tonight she’s restless, driven by something Barry can’t see or name. So this time, he doesn’t take the time to tease, to drive her wild with anticipation, just slips his fingers under that lacy underwear and parts her easily with two fingers. He groans, his trapped dick pulsing against his stomach at how _wet_ she is already. Soaking and hot, slick against his fingertips as he strokes her clit, and she jerks in his arms like he introduced a live wire to her body.

“Barry, I —” she chokes out, and before he can react she’s twisting around fully, up and away.

“What —” he says, reaching for her.

“Like this,” she pants, half-standing to peel her underwear off, hopping a little and cursing when she nearly tumbles to the ground. “Can we — like this —” She kneels down next him, tugging his belt open roughly with practiced motions.

“Oh fuck,” he manages, and helps her with the zipper before shoving his pants and underwear half-off. She pulls his cock free, wrapping her hand around the base and squeezing once, the tug of her palm sending liquid fire through is veins. Barry groans, his hips lifting off the ground, and Lucretia licks her lips.

“On your back,” she says breathlessly, with just a trace of that implacable, commanding voice she’d used earlier, and if he weren’t so far gone he’d be embarrassed at the sound he makes, a sharp jolt of pleasure sparking in his groin.

God, he wanted to go down on her first, or rub her clit til she came, but this...this is good, too, he thinks, his mind thick with lust and pleasure. Positioning herself overtop of him, Lucretia’s hands are back on his dick, guiding the head of his cock to her and slipping it shallowly inside. She hasn’t even taken her cardigan off, is still fully clothed, and Barry gets a flash of how she’d look if she were naked, if he could see her tits bounce while she rides him, and he puts his hands on her hips to help steady her.

“Are you sure you don’t...I mean, if you’re not ready, I can…” Barry says through ragged breaths, but Lucretia shakes her head, her expression twisted in pleasure.

“Shhh. Just let me,” she pants, and when he sucks in another hard breath to try and convince her to please god, come over here and sit on his face first, she starts sinking down onto him.

 _Fuck, fuck_ , Barry thinks wildly, his voice trapped in his throat, the wet heat of her pussy driving everything else out of his mind. He groans, trying to keep his eyes open, wanting to see the look on her face, but it’s too _much_. She feels amazing around him, the muscles in her cunt grabbing at him even when she’s barely moving, just rocking back and forth until he’s fully seated inside her. Belatedly he starts fumbling at the front of her dress, trying to push it aside to get at her clit.

“Let me,” he says, lust making him clumsy. “Let me touch you, please.”

She moans above him, moving faster and harder against him, and grabs his hand to press it against her and fitting his thumb over her clit. He drives up into her, desperate and a little unnerved at her vehemence even through the orgasm building fast and hot at the base of his spine. With a high, keening sound she presses her hands against his chest for leverage, her back arched like a bow, eyes shut, mouth open in a wordless cry.

————————————————

Later, much later, Barry would forget this night along with everything else. He kept certain parts of Lucretia with him in the coin — her brilliance, her ruthlessness, her unbreakable iron will — but not her tenderness, not her face in the moonlight, not the breathless pant of his name on her lips. After everything she did, after everything that broke between them after Lup disappeared, he had to stay _focused_ , and Lucretia unmoored him like nothing else in the universe. This night, like so many other nights, was lost to him for decades.

But for now, tonight, Barry would swear for years that right at that moment, a lone comet burned in the sky, arcing over and past Lucretia’s head like a crown, like the single tear sliding down her cheek.


	3. Chapter 3

Lucretia doesn’t need a day for herself, of course. She’s not becoming a lich, not filling herself with necromantic forces (darkness, anti-life, rot and bile; she knows that’s not how it works but it’s how it _feels_ ) to sustain her spirit beyond death. She won’t be fighting to tether her soul to her body, won’t be channeling so much energy that it could rip her apart like she was made of paper, won’t be permanently and irreversibly locking herself out of whatever comes after life on the Material Plane. Nothing will change for her after this, not physically, so a day would be irrelevant. Pointless. Completely unnecessary.

But she gets one anyway.

————————

Lucretia wakes slowly, blinking heavily in the pre-dawn light, her eyes staying at half-mast as she snuggles a little deeper into the nest of blankets and sheets. One arm is stretched comfortably around Lup’s back, her knuckles brushing up against the light hair on Barry’s stomach, the other curled up in front of her. They’re still sleeping, Lup’s heartbeat steady and slow like the pulse of the earth, Barry’s breathing a gentle, familiar rhythm in the soft grey haze of early morning. She stretches slightly, careful not to jostle either of them, her lower back complaining slightly as she twists just enough to feel the pleasant, just-woke-up ache in her muscles.

It’s a bit unusual for her to be the first one up; Lup doesn’t need much sleep, Barry’s even more of a morning person than she is, and they’ve both been up before the sunrise every day this week for ritual prep. Something about needing the moonlight, and blood, the dark waters lapping at their ankles.

Lucretia didn’t ask for more details.

Gritting her teeth, she closes her eyes and breathes out slowly through her nose, willing herself to shove those thoughts away. They’re here with her, right now. Lup’s hair is tickling her nose and Barry’s foot is pressed up against her ankle and they’re both so _warm_ in the bed next to her. There’s nothing she can do about later (later they’ll be dead, later she’ll squeeze her pencil so tight in snaps like a twig in her hand, later she’ll lock herself in her room and weep until she’s gasping for air), all she has is now. This. Lup curled against her, Barry sweet face pressed into the pillow, both of them loving her and each other like they’ve never known fear.

Sometimes she wants them so badly she can barely stand it.

If they _knew_ , if they knew how greedy she was, they’d recoil, she thinks with a twist of her mouth. Her breath is quickening again, her pulse picking up, her body starting to thrum anxiously no matter how hard she tries to stay calm, tries to keep the peace of this moment like spun glass in her hand. _Stupid. They already know. They must. Everyone on this ship knows._

It must be obvious; she drops whatever she’s doing to spend time with them, abandoning a project for a few hours just to cuddle up and watch the sun set over the hills. _And the sex, god._ There’s nowhere to hide there, aching for them so openly sometimes she’s humiliated even in the throes of passion. When they focus on just her, when she’s caught between them, she comes so hard and fast it makes them laugh — helpless, begging, mangled with desire, her body more theirs than hers.

It’s exhilarating; it’s terrifying.

Before she can follow that dangerous train of thought any further, tracing the threads back and back to untangle the twisted mass of fear and regret and the drumming call of ‘ _bad, bad, something bad is just around the corner, watch out, watch out_ ’ that’s coiled up behind her ribs, Lup’s breathing gets a little deeper, her shoulders rolling back as she twists slightly in Lucretia’s arms.

“Hey,” Lup says quietly, cracking her eyes open as she turns to face Lucretia, smiling so sweetly that it takes Lucretia’s breath away even now.

“Morning,” Lucretia says, lifting her arm to let Lup move more easily.

“How long have you been up?” Lup asks through a yawn, her hair a wild tangle around her freckled face, rubbing one-handed at her eyes.

“Not long,” Lucretia says, smiling a little at the odd pillow-imprint left on Lup’s cheek. The mattress shifts underneath them, and Barry’s sleep-rumpled face peers over Lup’s shoulder.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you —” Lucretia says, glancing up at the window. _It really is early — I should’ve let them sleep._

“Nah, I blame Magnus’s latest attack of early morning workouts — my internal alarm clock is wrecked,” Lup says, stretching luxuriously and kicking the blankets half-off her body. The hem of sleep shirt rides up, exposing the slope of her belly. “He’s probably lurking outside the door already.”

“He better not be,” Barry mumbles, burying his nose in the mass of Lup’s hair and reaching over to tug them both closer to him. Lucretia smiles as Barry’s warm hand settles on her hip; the heavy knot in her chest is loosening, dissolving, her breath coming easier. It’s better when they’re here with her; it always has been. _I love you_ , she thinks, but this time without the jagged-edged sorrow. This time with the quiet, wondrous joy that’s been sustaining her for years.

“You want me to check?” she says instead, hoisting herself up on one elbow to look down at them. Barry’s other arm is wrapped under and around Lup’s waist, their legs an indistinct tangle beneath the blankets, Lup leaning back comfortably into Barry. Shadows linger between their bodies, flowing into the dip of Lup’s neck, the vee of Barry’s arm, and on an impulse she tugs the blanket fully off.

“No, you — hey!” Lup laughs, reaching lazily down for the blanket but clearly unwilling unstick herself from Barry’s comfy embrace.

“Stay there,” Lucretia says, sitting all the way up. “And let me grab my sketchbook. You two look...lovely, like this.” They really do, the light behind the darkness casting them into a soft relief, their expressions beautifully relaxed and calm. They look, Lucretia thinks with a pang, the way they _feel_ to her. Perfectly balanced, inviting and sensual, so romantic that she can feel herself falling all over again.

“Aw, our girl thinks we look _good_ in the morning,” Lup says, the teasing lilt in her voice sending a flush of warmth through Lucretia’s stomach.

Before she can hop out of bed, though, Barry grabs her wrist and reels her gently back down til she’s braced above them on her knees, one hand flat on the bed next to Lup.

“Hold on there, girl,” he says, grinning up at her, his sleepiness evaporating. “Now, Lup and I will happily play model for you —”

“Yeah we will —” Lup says, dragging her fingers across Barry’s arm, and Lucretia watches him shiver. She swallows hard,

“But isn’t there usually some sort of payment involved in these things?” he finishes, letting go of her wrist and pulling her so she’s half-leaning across them both, his hand splayed across her ass.

Lucretia laughs, rolling her eyes, but when Lup treats her to the same whispery, feather-light touch against her wrist she sucks in a quick breath. The sweet warmth she always feels when she’s close to Lup and Barry is twisting and coiling inside her in a familiar, delicious way.

“Technically yes,” Lucretia allows, pulling herself together. “Though if you think I have any local currency to pay your fee, you’re sadly mistaken.”

“We take other forms of payment,” Lup says smoothly, effortlessly picking up what Barry puts down. “Services —”

“Companionship —” Barry says airily, raising an eyebrow.

“Pu —” Lup starts to say, a wicked glint in her eyes, but Lucretia yelps and tries bodily to slap a hand over her mouth, sending her tumbling down gracelessly, splayed top of Barry.

“Nope!” Lucretia says, trying to sound stern through her giggles. “Nope, nope, nope, you are not saying that out loud.”

Barry laughs too, the sound vibrating pleasantly through her body, and when Lup grins at her, unrepentant and undeterred, she can’t help grinning back.

“Good point,” Barry continues, urging her higher, pulling more of her weight over his stomach and hips. “Better not leave a paper trail. Wouldn’t want the Sketchbook Police to crack down on you for inappropriate business practices.”

“Exactly,” Lucretia says. Barry shifts just enough to rub his erection against her thigh, biting his lower lip, and Lucretia’s belly tightens with hot anticipation.

“How about a kiss, then,” Lup says, her grin sharpening into something hungrier, and with some minor wiggling she pulls off her shirt and chucks it across the room.

Lucretia sucks in a breath, another bright rush of arousal pulsing through her.

“I – okay. But keep it –” Lucretia says, trying to keep playing along despite Lup inching towards her and Barry’s hand sliding around her hip. “Keep it, uh. Between us. The Sketchbook Ethics Committee will have my head on a platter.”

“Don’t worry, Keesh,” Lup says, bracing herself on her elbows and blowing a strand of hair out of her face. “Your secret’s safe with us.”

“Every part of you is,” Barry says, canting his hips up with a slight groan.

And Lucretia’s unexpectedly caught between a burst of slick heat between her legs, biting her lip against the sound threatening to spill from her mouth, and a sudden rush of tender gratitude at how lucky she is, luckier than someone like her ever deserved. _Safe; I’m safe, and I’ll keep them safe, too._

“Alright. You’ve got a deal,” Lucretia says, smiling as she lets herself roll back into the shared warmth of their bed, into their welcoming arms.

————————

That afternoon, the three of them are working through a huge stack of arcane theory diagrams courtesy of Merle and Davenport’s latest trip to a crumbling, abandoned library. None of them have been up for away missions lately; Lup and Barry busy with ritual prep, Lucretia busy with Good Day prep, and whenever they have time alone they’re desperate to spend it with each other. So they’ve all been compromising by doing the bulk of the in-house research for the rest of team.

Lucretia’s actually happy to do it — it’s been fascinating to study the ways the Aether reacts here, the differences planetary movement and atmosphere and unique metals twists the shape of arcane energies. Everyone who casts spells can still do that here, but they’re all reacting a little differently, a little more ‘wobbly’. Davenport, however, didn’t think ‘magic is wobbly here? I dunno?’ was a sufficient answer, so once he’d discovered the Lyceum they’d set to work getting a more concrete answer for their captain.

“Hey, have either of you seen the earlier draft of those runes?” Barry says, polishing his glasses absently on the hem of his t-shirt.

They’re sitting out on the deck, papers spread out over the huge table they use for family dinners, Lucretia effortlessly holding up a shield spell to keep the wind from disturbing their work. The sun overhead is strong and radiant, but it’s already started to sink; not much time left.

“Uh, no…” Lucretia says absently, not looking up from her careful tracing. “I think Lup had it…”

“Babe?” Barry says, and Lucretia can hear him moving aside heavy tomes and delicate instruments as he searches for their cheatsheet.

“Mmm. It’s right…oh hey, check this out!” Lup says suddenly, gesturing the two of them over. “Look at the way this formula can be used...have we tried it against Mordenkainen’s Big Book O’ Spells yet?”

Lucretia and Barry glance at each other, shrug, and move to stand behind her shoulders to see what Lup’s working on. Lucretia squints, a little lost in the pages and pages of scratched-out notes, and Barry clears his throat deliberately.

“Babe, the rune sheet?” he says patiently, a smile tugging at his lips.

“If rune sheets are all that you love, then that is what you shall receive,” Lup declares, a grin in her voice, double-checking her figures.

“Perhaps it was sent to the spice mines of Kessel?” Lucretia suggested, nudging Barry playfully, her eyes still on the complicated formulas Lup had scribbled down. “Or smashed into Who-Knows-What?”

“Not this again,” Barry groans good-naturedly. “And somehow everyone thinks _I’m_ the geekiest one?"

Lup laughs as she fishes out the rune translation sketches and passes it backwards to Barry. “We’ll spare you this time, but seriously — check this shit out."

Barry stashes the rune sheets safely on his side of the table then sits down next to Lup on the bench.

“Now look at how this bends the arc of the spell, right?” Lup says, tracing the pattern with her finger over the filmy paper. “I just realized – isn’t that the same concept as a summoning spell? See how it draws the energy toward —”

“And then _back_ again with exponential power,” Lucretia says, as the idea blooms in her head, sudden and illuminating and _wonderful. Oh shit. Oh, oh, that’s..._ “That’s how they’re pulling these massive nodes of energy! They’re not creating them…”

“They’re _summoning_ them,” Barry says, eyes wide and excited as he twists to look at both her and Lup at once. There’s a little smudge of ink on his nose, his hair a little wild from all the times he’s run his hands through it, and Lucretia thinks with a sudden pang that he’s never looked more handsome to her. “And wait, if you track those with the life forces that gather in the oceans —”

“Not to mention the texts here that reference ancient scripts that have been buried underwater —” Lucretia says quickly, pulling out her notebook from the pocket of her cardigan and rifling through the pages as quickly as she can, her thoughts spinning forward as she tries to fit the pieces together. _If the communities here are just building wherever the power congregates, which, duh, then what if...what if.._

“Oh damn son, that’s it! It’s in the _water_ ,” Lup says with a low breath, sketching a quick diagram on the piece of scratch paper that Barry hands her automatically, her hand flying across the page. “It must be! That’s why everything’s been so sticky here. It’s filtered through the oceans, the rivers, all of it!”

“The water,” Barry says distantly, and when Lucretia glances up his eyes are unfocused, staring out at something in the middle distance. “Incredible. That’s just…wow…I mean, water works as a conductor for some magic back home, but not –”

“Not like this,” Lucretia finishes excitedly, a rush of energy in her blood, the fierce pleasure of finding the solution singing in her bones. This is _huge_ – I wonder if we have time to run some experiments…gods, you two are brilliant.”

“Us? You’re the one that figured out –” Barry says, reaching out for her hand, but Lucretia shakes her head with a smile, wanting they to see how incredible they are.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have any way to contextualize –”

“But without your translations —”

“Not to mention Lup was the one to put it together! And you —”

“Aright aright, we’re all geniuses at this table, kay?” Lup says, her eyes shining with the reflected sunlight, crinkling at the edges from her gorgeous smile. “C’mon – we’ve been working for hours, we deserve a breakthrough treat. Let’s grab some chow and a drink before we dive back in.”

“Hell yeah,” Barry says as his stomach rumbles right on cue, and Lucretia laughs.

“I’ll go grab some snacks, but why don’t you guys stay out here and make sure we don’t use some ancient text as a coaster, yeah?” Lucretia says.

They don’t actually get back to work after that, at least not in any real way; instead they stay outside, cobbling together some leftovers and liberating a few bottles of wine from Lucretia’s stash. Barry convinced them to play some sort of intricate homemade board game, sweeping the table clean to lay out a complicated map, Magnus-caved pieces, and several stacks of cards, and soon the only mention of work is when they’re congratulating each other for various strokes of inspiration.

Lucretia’s sitting on one side of the table, Barry and Lup on the other, and as they munch on chopped vegetables and move their pieces across the board, Lucretia’s eyes linger helplessly on the way they lean into each other, how Barry kisses Lup on the cheek with the barest brush of his lips, the way Lup’s expression softens at the brief, sweet contact. _They’re so good together_ , Lucretia thinks, her body pleasantly light and floaty. _So good to each other._ The earth feels firmer under her feet when she sees them together, the air breathes cleaner, the whole world shines just a little bit brighter.

“What?” Barry asks, a slightly smile on his face, and Lucretia jumps when she realizes she’s been caught staring.

“Nothing,” she says truthfully, waving a casual hand. “I—I’ll be right back.”

She stands up, a little unsteady, and heads back into the ship, thinking she could grab the last, secret bottle of wine from her room. It’s darker in the ship, and she blinks as her eyes adjust. Fortunately, all of them could probably move through the ship blindfolded at this point, her feet moving her along to her room by muscle memory alone. Might as well pop it now, she reasons to herself with a small smile. Barry and Lup might not be big on wine after…after.

“Stop it,” she mutters to herself, opening the door to her room a little harder than is strictly necessary, her smile sliding off her face. “Just stop it.”

_Maybe another bottle of wine isn’t the best idea right now, actually._ She’s been drinking too much lately; she knows she has, knows she needs to get a grip on herself. On the Days she planned for Barry and Lup she could tell she was overdoing it, numbing herself to stay in the glow of the moment with them. _That excuse is starting to wear thin_ , she thinks as she pulls the bottle out from her pack and holds it in both hands, the smooth glass a burgundy red. It glimmers in the light, the liquid shot through with a deeper, rich purple color when she turns it just so, and Lucretia closes her eyes.

_So what. So you hate what they’re doing? Tough shit. Either tell them, or keep it to yourself – don’t hand over all your neurosis and anxieties like they’re your emotional laundry machines._

She’s failing them, she thinks, her cheeks burning with shame, her grip on the bottle tightening painfully; she should tell them while there’s still time, make them stop this madness. They have no clue what will happen to them afterward, becoming a lich is _insane_ , she needs to _do_ something, not just stand by them uselessly while they make the biggest mistakes of their lives. But everytime she tries – and she’s tried, she’s tried so many times – she can’t make herself do it, can’t sacrifice their love for her. No matter how strong she starts out, no matter how steely her willpower, it all crumbles every time Lup traces her fingertips against her skin, every time Barry smiles at her slow and loving, every kiss and breath they share in the morning light.

She loves them too selfishly to protect them; her love is wrapped around them like an anchor, dragging them to the bottom of the sea.

And now she’s here, stuck in the mire of her own indecision, knowing how to save them but without the bravery to _do_ it (just like last time, she thinks bitterly. When they asked her on that spray-soaked cliff if she loved them — she should’ve lied and said no, should’ve told them then that she’d ruin it, that whatever broken thing lurks inside her will cut them to ribbons if they get too close). Too weak, too _ineffective_ , to do what needs to be done, and Lucretia bites her lip hard enough to draw blood.

_Stop. Gods, just stop with this self-pity already._ Lucretia takes a deep, steadying breath. She’s not going to tell them; can’t or won’t doesn’t really matter at this point. If she understands correctly, they’ve already started the preparatory work — it’s too late to stop it now. She needs to deal with it like an adult, like their partner who loves and trusts them, not like a child wailing in the night about the monster hiding just out of sight.

And so she does, for now. She straightens up, brings the wine out with her ( _last time, last time, last time_ ), uncorks it in the kitchen with a practiced motion. Barry and Lup are still sitting together in the setting sun, his arm around her back, her hair lit up like fire. Their stunning discovery shoved to the side to make room for each other, and Lucretia feels something tightening in her chest, sweet and sharp, burning her up from the inside.

“Anyone up for one more round?” she says, smiling big and expansive at the loves of her life, and locks the door behind her.

————————

The ritual is a few days later.

It’s cold, out on the little hill by the river. Barry and Lup are talking quietly a few feet away from them, crimson IPRE jackets a splash of color in the foggy, early-morning air. Bones lay on the ground in an intricate circle, candles lit and flickering in the stillness, sand and flowers and small pieces of crystal scattered all around. Beautiful, almost. Artistic. Before Barry, Lucretia never would have noticed the art in necromancy, the delicate knots of life and death and the in-between roping around the circle, guiding the arcane energy down a deliberate, winding path to the whalebone vessel, the sacrifice. _The Focus_ , she reminds herself firmly. _No one is being sacrificed._

“God, could they have picked a spookier spot for all of this?” Taako says beside her, raising an elegant eyebrow, rolling his shoulders in a show of casual disregard that she’s certain is fake. “How can you stand dating not one but _two_ gothed-up drama queens?”

Lucretia smiles, just a little, her chest aching. “You get used to it,” she says, and Taako snorts disbelievingly.

He’s standing close to her, closer than they normally would, his elbow just barely brushing her bicep as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. There’s a tension in the lines of his body that she’s rarely seen before, a stiffness in his normally languid, liquid stance, and all at once her throat feels tight, her heart thudding in her chest, because he _knows_. He knows what they’re going to do, he knows that this is the last moment Lup and Barry will ever be truly alive, and she’s suddenly so grateful that he’s here with her that she can barely breathe.

Lucretia’s not sure she could do it on her own.

“You didn’t wanna get in on this lich thing, then?” Taako asks after a long moment, his shoulders tense.

“No,” Lucretia says, averting her eyes and swallowing hard. “I. I couldn’t. I know that sounds…”

“Nah homie, I’m with you. This is nuts,” Taako says, rolling his eyes, and Lucretia’s sure she’s not imagining the slight tremble in his shoulders.

“Right?” Lucretia says loudly, her voice squeaking embarrassingly. “It’s _crazy_!”

“Damn straight,” Taako says. “But, you know...”

“Yeah,” Lucretia sighs. She knows. “It’s Lup, and it’s Barry, so—”

“So what’s a lovestruck nerd to do,” Taako says, glancing over at her affectionately.

“Pretty much,” Lucretia says wryly, and Taako actually laughs, just a little.

_I’m glad you’re here_ , she wants to say. _You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother, I love you, I couldn’t do this without you_. But her throat is painfully thick, her jaw is locked tight, she can’t, she can’t, she _can’t_. It’s just too much. She compromises by bumping him lightly with her shoulder, smiling up at him, and he nudges her back companionably. It’s close enough, she thinks. Close enough for both of them.

A low sound, a rumble of earth beneath their feet, and Taako’s sharp intake of breath mirrors her own. Barry and Lup have pulled up the hoods of their robes, their faces shadowed and hidden, and they’re standing together now in the circle Barry built. The wind is picking up, the candles all blow out at once, and with a shudder Lucretia can feel the necromantic energies start to gather around Lup and Barry. It’s entirely different from any other magic that she’s worked with; sticky, grasping, she doesn’t know how Barry _stands_ it, that radioactive ozone-burn against his skin. Taako makes a small, almost indistinct noise of unease, and Lucretia’s sure he’s feeling it too.

It’s easy to forget, with Barry’s aw-shucks mannerisms and unassuming ways, that the power he controls so effortlessly is not just arcane energies, but the forces of life and death itself, the most powerful aspects of the universe. If there was any school of magic that drifted dangerously close to godhood, it’d be Necromancy. Barry is _dangerous_ , dangerous and deadly and brilliant, and Lucretia’s pretty sure she hadn’t fully appreciated that part of him until this very moment, when the air crackles with hidden lightning and the hairs on the back of her neck are standing straight up and every animal instinct in her brain is screaming _run run run_.

Red light flashes around them, bright and shocking as freshly shed blood, and before she realizes what’s happening Taako is grabbing her hand, squeezing hard enough to bruise, his face a rictus mask of restraint. Lucretia squeezes back, a hammering in her ears, forcing herself to keep watching. The sickening red light spills out of them, their mouths and eyes, and something’s sprung up around them, a shimmering energy encasing the circle. Their bodies slump to the ground like puppets with their strings cut, and Taako makes another strangled, smothered sound as his nails bite into her skin.

_Please. Please work. Don’t die, don’t leave me all alone again. Please, please, please._

A huge explosion of red light, black shadows, and with a stab of horror Lucretia can see their souls leave their bodies, can see their spectral forms rise up with the force of the spell. Lucretia jerks forward, free hand outstretched, a scream of the most powerful dispelling magic she knows trapped in her throat, but Taako yanks her back hard enough to pop something in her shoulder. Holds her fast and close, anchors her to his side, and she blinks hard to beat back the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. She looks up at him, desperate and terrified, but he just shakes his head quickly, mouth forming a single word she can barely hear over the roar of the arcane storm raging around them.

“Wait.”

He’s shaking next to her, his eyes huge in his beautiful face, and Lucretia clenches her jaw tight against her own panic. _Wait. Trust._ She nods jerkily, her shoulders going tight as she straightens to her full height against the gale, gripping Taako’s hand like it’s the only real thing in the universe.

_They can do this, they can_ do _this. Just a little bit longer,_ she thinks. _Take whatever you need, my loves, just_ survive.

A few more heart-stopping seconds, the ground corroding black and cracking under their feet, thunder cracking overhead like gunshots, but then finally, _finally_ , the faint spectral forms of Barry and Lup calm. The unearthly shimmer dissipates, the sky begins to clear, and Lucretia holds her breath as she waits for them to descend again into their exhausted, magic-wracked bodies.

Barry nods at Taako, slow and solemn, then he and Lup both turn to her as one. They each hold a strange, skeletal hand over where their hearts would be, watching her from under their hoods, and Lucretia clutches her own heart in response, biting her tongue against a sob. _Yes. I love you, I do, I love you more than anything, I’d do anything for you._ Trying to tell them, to make them feel it, but she’s never fully sure she does. Barry’s form lowers to the ground, settling over his body like a fog, but Lup is still up, facing Taako for a long moment. She dabs, just once, and Taako’s relieved, watery laugh is the best thing Lucretia’s heard in weeks.

_It’s over. It’s really over._

She keeps thinking it — _it’s done, no more_ — as Lup and Barry drift back into their bodies, as they stand up and hold each other and then wrap her and Taako up in a giant four-person hug, laughing wild and giddy from their impossible, incredible triumph. She tries to push the repetitive, obsessive thought away, curling into Barry’s arms while Lup and Taako are doing some complicated secret handshake and talking so rapidly it’s a blur of noise, pressing her tear-streaked face into his neck and breathing him in like air, like a drug.

They go home, all of them, Lup’s hand warm and familiar in her own. They eat an early breakfast with the rest of their family, linger over the table talking through plans for the next cycle. Davenport hums a song as he clears the table, Magnus tells them another story about the bear cubs from way back in the first cycle, Lup and Taako shoot some colorful fireworks into the sky above them in the name of ‘practice’. It’s beautiful, it should be perfect, but...but Lucretia can’t shake the odd, whispering feeling twining around every moment, every second. Fear, of course — Lucretia can barely remember a time when she wasn’t afraid of something — but an odd sort of relief, too.

Relief that the bad thing she knew was coming had happened just like she knew it would, relief that whatever happens next, the choice has now been made. No more uncertainty, no more teetering back and forth, just moving on and fighting back against the all-consuming darkness and figuring out how to pour themselves into this new shape, into this new reality. She could do that, she thinks. She could spend the rest of her life doing just that. 

_Over. It’s over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you spot the Star Wars reference, I owe you a nerd dollar. XO

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr [here](http://tinwomanrunaway.tumblr.com/), where the only thing I yell about is TAZ polyships. Come say hi!


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